


Press

by DerpyMcButtface



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Triplet Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpyMcButtface/pseuds/DerpyMcButtface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha and Aleksis attend PPDC's Annual Conference, where representative teams from the world's Shatterdomes gather to sit through long boring broadcasts, and the Marshall barely keeps everything from falling into chaos, especially when Cheung Wei has to put on makeup and Chuck is basically a teenager.</p><p>(Cherno- and Crimson-centric.</p><p>I wanted to start edging in on the other non-movie teams, like Chrome Brutus (Ilisapie and Zeke), and Hydra Corinthian (Kennedy and Stephanie).)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Press

_August 21, 2020_

 

“Chuck! _Get out!_ Guys! Guys!” someone screamed.

 

Ilisapie was the first one to barge over, her bulky duffel in her hands like a club. “What’s going on? Oh, Kaidanovsky- that wasn’t you screaming, was it?”

 

Sasha gave her a cold look. “Of course not.”

 

“Hello? Does someone here need assistance?” the Inuit woman called out, looking around the room.

 

“Help! Help! Yes! In here!” It was Jody, one of the pilots of Vulcan Specter. The petite teenager had jumped into a laundry hamper in only her underwear, her face suffused with rage. “That- other kid! He’s been hiding there this whole time watching me- us! Chuck Hansen, get out of there, we know you’re in there!” 

 

Ilisapie followed Jody’s line of sight and strode over to a cracked-open cabinet. She flung it open and reached inside, with only minor scrabbling, and extracted a blonde teenager, who only grinned cheekily at them.

 

“ _Chuck!_ ” Jody wailed angrily.

 

“Aww, come on Jody, it’s not like you have much to look at anyways-“

 

“I’m telling my brother!”

 

“What’s he going to do, _faint_ on me?”

 

“Your father is going to know about this, young man,” Ilisapie warned him sternly.

 

“Let the old man find out, he can’t do anything anyways- Hey, quit that, let go-“

 

“Out, out, out!” Ilisapie barked, grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him out the entrance of the women’s locker room as if she were throwing out trash.

 

“He’s as bad as the Beckett Boys,” Sasha complained, once Ilisapie had returned.

 

“Really? I’ve heard about their escapades, but I only met them once. They were charming.”

 

“Charming? They _stole_ some backup cameras from the maintenance crew and installed them in _my_ shower when we were loaned to Anchorage,” she informed the other woman coldly.

 

“Oh, boys are boys,” Ilisapie, the only girl amongst six brothers, said. “But with Yancy gone now, I hope the little Beckett is doing okay. Tried to send him my condolences, I mean, I think I know how it feels, I had all but one of my brothers died, but everyone says he just vamoosed…”

 

Sasha nodded noncommittally. A few incidents aside, she hadn’t known either brother very well. They were fellow Rangers yes, but she couldn't say that she was particularly warm on either one of them, especially after the shower incident. “I see,” she said, gathering her belongings and preparing to leave the women’s changing room. She respected Ilisapie enough. The two women were opposites: the Canadian was half her height, dark where she was pale, talkative and comforting where she was cold and aloof, but they were of the same stock- born freezing and fighting. Ilisapie never took ‘no’ for an answer and had managed to bully her strong-willed but cowardly cousin into a Jaeger, and Sasha wished that she could trade the chatty Eden Assassin brothers for the Chrome Brutus in Vlaidostok. Still, the other woman’s chattiness wore her down after a while.

 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up one way or another,” Ilisapie continued as Sasha left the room. “Boys like that always do.”

 

* * *

 

 

They were sharing a resting area with Nova Hyperion and Crimson Typhoon.  The South Korean girls were absent, probably still in the makeup room, but the triplets were present, with one brother still in his street clothes, and in the midst of some Chinese argument. Sasha looked around the lounge for her husband. “Aleksis.”

 

The large man looked up guiltily from where he was discreetly trying to disappear behind one of the gray couches. Considering that he was seven feet tall, it was not working. “Yes, Sashka?”

 

“Come out of there. All the press stuff is in English; you don’t have to say anything,” Sasha assured him, opening her makeup case, trying to decide how to paint her face for the conference. She opened her lips into an O as she flicked the mascara wand over her eyelashes.

 

“Exactly, they don’t need us there. They have the other teams already,” he grumbled. “They could have sent Eden Assassin or Steam Colossus to represent Vladivostok, why did they have to send us?”

 

“We’re the senior team,” Sasha reminded him. He looked at her bashfully, and she could see clear on his face that he was wishing a Kaiju would damn well come and attack Russia so that they had an excuse to be out.

 

“I don’t want to go. I don’t like the cameras.”

 

Sasha gave him a hard look. “Aleksis. This is just because you don’t want to put on makeup again, isn’t it?” 

 

The Russian man was saved from replying by the appearance of the Marshall of the Anchorage and Lima Shatterdomes, dressed to the tens in his best suit rather than his dress uniform. Usually Marshall Lin from the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the most senior (and loudest) Marshal, would be bustling about with preparations and rehearsing her speech, but from what they had heard, she was in the ICU again.

 

“Well, it looks like everything is in order. I assume you have all read the briefing. The folder covers what we’ll be talking about, and I expect you all to familiarize yourself with the material.” Pentecost nodded to the Ranger, but stopped when he noticed something missing. “Crimson Typhoon. Why are you not all dressed?”

 

There was a dangerous silence before Hu spoke. “Cheung has not changed into his uniform yet because he is afraid of putting makeup on.”

 

To his credit, Pentecost’s face did not budge an inch. If anything, he took on an even calmer, quieter air as he lowered his arms to his sides. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” he asked.

 

“Cheung is afraid of putting on makeup so he hasn’t dressed yet.”

 

The Marshall gave them hard looks. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice going quieter and quieter. “There is exactly half an hour before we’re on air. All the other teams are assembled, prepped, and ready to go. You, Crimson Typhoon, are the only ones left. Am I clear?”

 

“You’re not our commanding officer,” Cheung mutters sulkily in Chinese, but his brother elbows him.

 

“Yes sir,” Hu said crisply.

 

“Good. I will see you then.”

 

As the Marshall left, Hu and Jin turned on their sibling and thumped him over the head. “Cheung, stop putting it off! We’re getting this done now- and for the duration of the day, _yes_ he is our unofficial commanding officer, Marshall Lin made it clear that while she’s gone-“

 

“You can hold me down but you can’t make me stay still,” Cheung threatened in turn.

 

“ _Watch us._ ”

 

“There’s always that one guy,” Sasha commented dryly as a wrestling match began. She finished off her other eyebrow and examined her face in her mirror. “Aleksis. Aleksis, do you hear me? Don’t be _that guy._ ”

 

“I’m not,” he grumbled.

 

“Yes you are. Now come here, at least let _me_ put makeup on you,” she commanded, crooking her finger towards him.

 

He shuffled towards her obediently, even as she brought out her brush set.

 

“Stop scrunching your face like that-“ Sasha flinched as Aleksis sneezed all over her. Her husband only stayed still when she ran a hand along his neck, her thumb stroking under his jaw. “Good… Good…” she crooned as she applied the rest of the mineral veil.

 

While he was still humming in contentment, she pressed her lips to the side of his temples, leaving behind a perfect red print of her lips, and repeated the action along his cheek, along the edge of his face. She was curious as to how long it would take for him to notice.

 

A loud rip sounded from the direction of the Chinese team, and Jin was left holding the frayed bottom of Hu’s suit jacket.

 

“Idiot! Grab Cheung, not me!”

 

“You were in the way!”

 

“Cheung, come on, or else the Marshall is going to be so angry he gets sarcastic!” Hu begged. “For once, can you not be a dickhead?”

 

“This is amusing. But I think I should help them,” Aleksis said slowly, thinking of the makeup artist, a petite Hong Kong local less than five feet tall, faced with the struggling Cheung.

 

“Good idea.” Sasha watched the proceedings with curiosity, slowly remembering that they were just boys after all- barely over twenty, and too spirited to have been beaten down by the current events just yet. Her husband nodded to Hu and Jin, and after a bit of cross-cultural miming, he raised one hand and held Cheng’s entire head firmly in place.

 

Hu let out a sign of relief and shouted something in Cantonese to the next room. The make-up artist scurried out, her entire set in hand.

 

“Don’t crush him by accident, ” Sasha shouted, stifling a laugh at the sight.

 

“What- what did your wife say, did she tell you to-“ Cheung demanded angrily. When the makeup artist waved a large fluffy brush over his face, his scream was cut off as Aleksis used his other hand to hold the triplet’s mouth closed.

 

“There, that wasn’t so bad?” Hu snorted derisively when Cheung was finally released.

 

“I feel like a girl,” Cheung moaned, rubbing at his face.

 

“No, you feel pretty,” Jin snickered.

 

“ _No,_ I feel- I feel like there’s stuff on my face!”

 

Sasha rolled her eyes and came over to put her hands on Aleksis’s elbow. “You haven’t changed since the Academy, Pasta Boy,” she snickered, calling him by nickname he acquired in an unfortunate canteen incident five years ago. “See you in the show room.”

 

“For the last time, I wasn’t-“ Cheung’s wail was cut off by the door closing behind them. The room they were broadcasting from was an elegantly-lit, wide room with a semicircle table, at which the Marshall sat in the middle of the curved side with the Rangers all around him, on the right of him the west hemisphere, and to the left of him the east.

 

She was about to follow Aleksis to their assigned seats, but two misplaced Chinese girls caught her eye. They were seated on the west hemisphere side of the table, behind nameplates reading ‘J. Chen’ and ‘L. Chen.’ Strangely, Sasha had never seen them before, despite having been to all the Shatterdomes in Asia. She discreetly pointed her chin towards the other side of the room as she passed. “Geographic order. Asia is on that side.”  

 

The Asian girl averted her eyes awkwardly. “Uh, um, we’re Mammoth Apostle… American? You know, from LA? America?” Meanwhile, her sister looked up from her tablet, puzzled at the going-ons.

 

The Chen girls definitely didn’t look American, but they didn’t seem to be lying, and no one was rushing forward to correct them either. “I see. Excuse me,” Sasha said frostily. _And that’s the last time I’ll try help someone,_ she thought.

 

“It’s fine, we get that all the time,” the other girl (presumably L. Chen) replied, less uneasily than J. Chen. “I’m Laura, by the way, Jennifer’s my sister. We’re _not_ Nova Hyperion, contrary to popular opinion,” she added jokingly.

 

“Um, yeah, nice shoes,” Jennifer mumbled and Sasha frowned- what was with that girl, did she have problems or something?

 

“Quit acting like a groupie!” Laura whined, exasperated. “Sorry, she’s a huge fan of yours. Like _huge_ fan. That’s what she’s hyperventilating.”

 

“Oh. I see.” Sasha looked away uncomfortably, not sure how people usually responded to this kind of stuff not from a civilian but from a fellow Ranger. “Sorry for the confusion,” she said, quickly walking away to the other side of the round table.

 

“Thank you!” Jennifer managed to shout after her, leaving Sasha just as confused as she was in the beginning.

 

“What was that about?” Aleksis asked when Sasha caught up with him.  She just shook her head, rolling her eyes, and he laughed, knowing that it was probably something embarrassing or silly. 

 

“I didn’t know American people were Chinese now,” Sasha said sourly. She was saved from having to elaborate by the Marshall striding into the room, his leather document case in hand.

 

The relief on the British man’s face is clear as he realizes that no one is spontaneously combusting. “Fifteen minutes to spare. Good work, everyone, thank you for your cooperation and being here on time. I- …Crimson Typhoon. Where is the Crimson Typhoon crew? Oh, there-“

 

The triplets sauntered in, after the Marshall’s aide. Cheung’s eyebrows were uneven and Jin and Hu looked like they had just come out of a blender. Several buttons were missing from all their suits and Jin’s sleeves were ripped half-off the rest of the jacket. 

 

“Crimson Typhoon- why are your clothes-“ For the first time in the history of history, Pentecost stopped mid-sentence, his voice trailing off in disbelief.

 

“Sir, we have all changed and put on makeup, and we are ready to go-“

 

The reason that the Anchorage Marshall was considered the unofficial “Head Marshall” while the head Marshall Lin was in the hospital, and the PPDC’s public face became clear as he did not explode and strangle all three young men. “Get changed,” he said, his voice barely audible.

 

Hu looked puzzled. “But sir, we’re almost on air-“

 

“ _Get. Changed._ If I turn around and you three are still standing there, there _will. Be. Consequences._ ”

 

“But sir, these are our only suits-“

 

“Ten minutes until air!” one of the technicians called.

 

Pentecost’s head whipped around, thinking fast of who was closest in size to the triplets. “Does anyone,” he said, and the room fell silent. “Does anyone have an extra suit? An extra jacket?”

 

None of the men did, but the women with the broadest shoulders, Sasha, Kennedy LaGrange, and Stephanie Lanphier all volunteered their extra blazers to replace the torn jackets.

 

“Thank you. Good enough. Crimson Typhoon, please get dressed.”

 

“But- they’re women’s suits-“

 

“Well, they are all gray, and it’s better than coming on like that,” Pentecost stated in a tone that bade no argument, and sent some staff to fetch the garments.

 

Five minutes later, Cheung blanched when Hu handed him Kennedy’s blazer, which had a cloth flower near the lapel. “Shut up,” he said simply. “This was all your fault.”

 

Sasha turned her head to stare at the triplets as Jin donned her gray jacket. She leaned her head in slightly and said quietly “I did this for the greater good, but any damage to the garment will be taken out of your faces.”

 

“The jacket won't close,” Hu muttered.

 

“Don’t stretch my blazer! That button’s antique!” Stephanie shouted hotly as Jin struggled with it. 

 

“Fucking leave it open, no one will notice!” Sasha snapped, seizing Jin’s arm and twisting it to make him stop messing with it.

 

 “Five minutes until air!”

 

“Can’t we just not wear jackets-“

 

“What? What’s so special about you that you _have_ to be the only ones not wearing jackets?” Stephanie demanded, her temper matching her current hair color.

 

“It’s not about being special, it’s about not looking like women-“

 

“ _Sit down and be quiet,_ ” Pentecost said. His voice was barely audible, but it was enough to make everyone take their places properly and shut up, even Cheung, who looked like he was about to cry.

 

“One minute until air-“

 

Pentecost _looked_ at his assembled Rangers, as if daring one of them to come up with a last-minute emergency. Satisfied that no one was about to drop dead, he folded his hands in front of himself on the desk.

 

“Five. Four. Three-“

 

For a moment, Sasha thought that Pentecost shot them a look of pure horror, but it was fleeting as the technician called out, “Two, One, we are on air.”

 

“Good afternoon. I am Marshall Stacker Pentecost, of the Anchorage Shatterdome,” the Marshall said, his voice firm and unwavering despite the fact that one of the technicians had accidentally shone a laser right into his eye.  

 

Aleksis gave her a mournful look and slipped one of his oversized hands into hers. It was going to be a long one.

 

Half an hour later, Sasha noted a bit of grudging admiration for the Marshall, especially his voice- strong and steady without droning, and the fact that he read out the good and bad news alike unflinchingly. Underneath the table, she finally disengaged their entwined hands and ran her palm up and down the inside of his thigh, watching his reaction- the barest twitching of the corners of his eyes through his stoic mask. Meanwhile, the youngest pilot, the peeping Australian “C. Hansen," seemed to be having some difficulty sitting in the same place for more than five minutes, despite his father's warning glances. 

 

“-And signs are, we will continue this trend of decreased cost of building, as our manufacturing process is consolidated and further improved. We have not begun any mass production yet. As the case of Horizon Brave showed, by the time the bulk production process is readied, the current model is already obsolete. In order to match the Kaiju, we are refining and improving the Jaeger designs at such a rate that any “finalizing” and “standardizing” is impractical as of now.“

 

“More than anything, the loss of Gipsy Danger is a clear indication that the resources for research and development are more crucial than ever before.” An hour later, some of the pilots were not looking so alert. The odd sister, Jennifer, from Mammoth Apostle had fallen asleep upright, and her sister was looking somewhere up in the ceiling. By then, Chuck was jerking his leg up and down so fast that his entire body was shaking. Every time his father Hercules stopped him, five minutes later he started again. 

 

“Meanwhile, in the Kaiju research division, our scientists have come across some very significant discoveries, which I would like to highlight.” Another hour and a half passed when there was a loud crack as Ilisapie punched her cousin in the arm hard and hit his chair’s arm by mistake. A Gameboy flew out of his hands. They glared at each other balefully, but thankfully kept their argument to that. Sasha heard rustling next to her and a murmur of barely-audible Chinese. Whatever Jin was saying, it had the word “bathroom, bathroom” in it, and subtle nag at the back of her head told her that Aleksis had the same idea in mind.

 

Finally, the phrase that they were all waiting for came. “If there are any questions, an hour from now, the press briefing will start. Until then, thank you.” Pentecost picked up his papers, indicating the end of the session.

 

“Oh thank God, that went on forever,” one of the Mammoth Apostle girls moaned loudly, as everyone else stayed quiet and in position.

 

There was a short, awkward silence before the tech crew announced, “And we are off air.” The Los Angeles Marshall darted forward, ushering the Chen sisters away from the Wrath of Pentecost.

 

“Off air,” Sasha heaved a sigh and stretched, popping her neck.

 

“They go on,” Hu complained in English, looking over at the Russians and folding up his borrowed blazer and handing it back to Sasha. “Thanks. Sorry, I think I sweated in it. Hey, so, party at our place later, everyone’s invited, alcohol potluck, pass it on, we’ll see you there?”

 

“You just want to see Hydra Corinthian doing body shots off of each other,” Sasha snorted.

 

“You make us sound like a bunch of perverts, Auntie,” Jin teased, looking a bit too comfortable in a woman’s suit as Cheung ripped off his flowered blazer. “But no, I figured, we don’t have everyone in the same place often so might as well get something good out of this schoolroom of a conference.”

 

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but we’ve got plans this evening.”

 

“What? No way! Shot down!” Hu complained, getting up. “What plans?”

 

“Why do you want to know?”

 

“So we can tattle on you,” he joked. “But really, what-“

 

Comprehension dawned on Cheung’s face, and the quietest brother hit Hu across the head, leading to a round of Chinese cursing that quickly subsided.

 

”Have fun,” he said, and his brothers laughed. “Well, we’ll miss you guys. It’s going to be too quiet without you, and the tabloids won’t have anything to publish tomorrow! We’ll see you tomorrow then. Have fun though-“ The Chinese man stopped, looking at Aleksis, and jabbered some quick Chinese to his brothers. All three of them burst out laughing and got up. “See you there!”

 

“What?” Aleksis demanded.

 

“Nothing, nothing. Anyways, sneak away from your Marshall at eight, okay? We’ll see you then,” Jin added, herding his brothers away even as they nearly collapsed. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Aleksis muttered as they walked out of the room and back into the lounge area.  

 

“Those boys are always laughing at something, remembering when they wouldn't stop cracking up in Jaeger physics just because some mechanism was called DIC?”

 

Aleksis gave a rumbling chuckle and turned his head towards her, revealing a few red lipstick prints on the other side of his face.

 

Sasha stopped in her tracks. “Oh God no.”

 

“What?”

 

“The entire time…”

 

“What?”

 

“Lipstick,” she said in defeat, and Aleksis snorted in horror.

 

“Rangers.” Sasha nearly startled when she turned her head to find the Marshall standing two feet away, a napkin in his outstretched hand.

 

“Marshall Pentecost. Sir,” Sasha saluted, and Aleksis followed suit.

 

“In the future, we would appreciate it if you refrained from engaging in whatever you two were doing, before a press conference,” he said sternly. “I don’t want anymore accidents like this.”

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” she said formally, taking the proffered napkin. 

 

“Oh. And congratulations on-“ the older man stopped. “Sorry. Dismissed, Rangers.”

 

Sasha crossed her arms and didn’t move. “On what?”

 

Pentecost adjusted his tie coolly. “You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t want to be unprofessional.”

 

“The cameras are off.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything. Just because no one is watching doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter; you should keep that in mind.”

 

“We are going to have to make assumptions, sir,” she threatened, and Aleksis grunted in agreement.

 

To her surprise, the Marshall seemed humored, or at least amused, but it was hard to tell, and she could have been wrong. “I was going to say ‘congratulations on your anniversary,’ but I’m afraid that’s area that is inappropriate for me to discuss.”

 

Sasha frowned. “Thank you. But that’s hardly an inappropriate thing to say,” she protested, but the Marshall waved her comments aside.

 

“Thank you for your participation today. I look forward to working with you in the future,” he said firmly, before turning around and leaving, as if he had said something embarrassing.

 

“I wonder what he meant by working with us in the future,” Aleksis muttered, but Sasha only shrugged.

 

“Let’s not worry about politics today. Come on Misha, it’s our anniversary, let’s start celebrating early,” she suggested, fingering their hotel key and smiling up at him. Aleksis laughed back and put an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temples.

 

“Yes, let’s.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was interested in how the teams interacted with each other when they're all put together


End file.
